


Una candela accesa fra me e te

by KittyHawke



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Festival di Sanremo RPF
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, In a way, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:15:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24197311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyHawke/pseuds/KittyHawke
Summary: Ermal realises he made a mistake, but with Fabrizio's help, it's easily fixed.
Relationships: Ermal Meta/Fabrizio Moro
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	Una candela accesa fra me e te

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of taking a small nugget of an idea and writing it to see where it goes. A short, sweet and simple OS. I hope you enjoy.

“I wish…” Ermal mumbled, and then immediately lost his train of thought. Now wasn’t the time for reasonable thoughts and full sentences. Nobody could empty his head and relax him quite like Fabrizio could, and he didn’t want to ruin the spell by even thinking of the fact that he wasn’t thinking.

“What do you wish, baby?” Fabrizio whispered. His voice was so close that Ermal could feel hot breath tickling his ear, and then the gentle scratch of a beard as Fabrizio trailed kisses from his cheek to his neck. He giggled and tried to turn his head away, while keeping the rest of his body still.

“You’re tickling me,” he said. The fuzzy edging around his brain was lifting and he began to feel more awake, more centred in reality. “I wish…I wish someone had told me back in 2018 that we’d still be like this.”

The bed shifted as Fabrizio sat up, propping his head on his elbow and looking at Ermal attentively. He looked like a porn star. He always did when he wasn’t wearing clothes, but something about that pose and the duvet draped artfully over his hips really completed the effect. “Would it have changed anything?” he asked.

Ermal smiled and shrugged, as much as he could in a horizontal position. “I don’t know. Maybe I would have asked you out in Sanremo instead of Lisbon.”

“When did you ask me out in Lisbon?” Fabrizio asked.

Ermal frowned at him, confused. “What? It was the first night. We went out for dinner, remember?”

Fabrizio inclined his head, recalling the memory. “I seem to remember you went out for dinner and your words were ‘Bizio, you might as well come along’.”

“I did say that” Ermal conceded, remembering in more detail. They were newly reunited and he hadn’t realised how much he missed Fabrizio until he saw him again. It had hit him hard and he hadn’t known how to handle it, and Fabrizio had been so calm and unaffected, so Ermal certainly wasn’t going to be the first to confess that he desperately wanted to spend the evening with him. A little joke had been the ideal way to get what he wanted without putting his heart on the line, and it had worked. It had worked remarkably well, actually.

“Hardly a typical way to ask someone out” Fabrizio remarked, smiling.

“But that night…”

“You mean after dinner when you invited me to your room for a drink and we ended up in bed? A first date like no other, I’ll say that.”

Ermal stared at the ceiling, his good feelings well and truly dissolved. Was that true? He replayed the first night in Lisbon and began to think that it was. He’d never actually asked Fabrizio on a date. They’d had dinner as friends, spontaneously had sex and then spent months in a limbo state before even putting a label on their relationship. Somehow they’d managed to skip the whole courtship period and go directly into some committed, albeit strange and long-distance, relationship where Ermal was a quasi-uncle to Fabrizio’s kids and yet they’d never held hands in the back row of a cinema. How had that happened?

“I never asked you out” he said quietly.

“It’s not a problem, love” Fabrizio said, lying back down and putting an arm around him. Ermal turned towards him. “Bizio, will you go out with me?” he asked.

Fabrizio looked back at him. The lazy, happy expression in his eyes suddenly turned serious. “We’ve been dating for two years. The fact that you never said a specific set of words means nothing.”

“I know, but a first date is so special and we never had that.”

“Ermal,” He started gently stroking his curls, and even in the middle of a conversation, it was impossible not to melt into that relaxing touch. “I was joking. I’m sorry that I made you feel bad. We’ve had plenty of dates.”

“It means something to me.”

The hand disappeared and Ermal opened his eyes, frustrated by the loss of his massage. “What if I asked you out?” Fabrizio suggested.

Ermal looked sternly at him. “I asked first” he retorted.

“Are you saying no?”

“No, I’m not. I’m saying I asked first. Will you go out with me, yes or no?”

“Yes or no? That’s hardly a romantic proposal.”

“Damn it, Fabrizio!” Ermal sat up and loomed over him. “Will you go on a date with me, please?”

Fabrizio smiled up at him. “I’d love to.”

Ermal relaxed and leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose. “Can I choose where we go?” Fabrizio asked.

“Sure.”

“Good, because there’s a great restaurant I know. We can go there tonight if you want.”

“Tonight?” Ermal craned his neck to see the clock. “It’s nearly midnight. What kind of place would be open right now?”

“This place is open 24/7” Fabrizio assured him, gently rubbing up and down his arm.

“Is it a takeaway?” he asked curiously.

“No, it’s a very exclusive dining experience with a small client list. I know the chef so I can attest to the quality of the food.”

“It sounds lovely,” Ermal remarked. Had he eaten there before? Fabrizio had never mentioned being friends with a chef. “What is it called?”

His partner’s eyes met his, mischief sparking in them. “Fabrizio’s Kitchen.”

Ermal cackled and kissed Fabrizio’s forehead. “Oh yes, I think I’ve heard of that place. The chef is known for a personal touch, isn’t he? Is there a dress code?”

“I’d say come as you are, but…” Fabrizio let his eyes wander over Ermal’s body, looking very much as if his meal of choice was already in the bed with him.

“Some standards have to be maintained, I understand.”

“Give me fifteen minutes to set everything up” Fabrizio requested, rolling away. Ermal turned as if they were attached by some invisible thread.

“Do you want me to help?”

“Only if you want to. You can stay here and relax if you prefer.”

“I’ll come.”

They clad themselves in makeshift costumes of trousers, slippers, unbuttoned shirts and dressing gowns before opening the shutters of Fabrizio’s Kitchen. Ermal was put in charge of drinks and table settings while Fabrizio took care of the chef’s business, beginning to make his famed spaghetti carbonara. When the water was boiling, he had Ermal take over stirring duties while he left the room for a few minutes, and returned with two frosted glass boxes.

“Are those candles?” Ermal asked incredulously.

“Not quite” Fabrizio admitted. He placed them on the table and flicked a switch. A light within turned the glass to a rich red, and then bright green, to cool blue and deep purple. Ermal was entranced by the sight and forgot his task until Fabrizio took the spoon back.

“I’ll take over stirring for a while. You can help again when my arm gets sore” he suggested.

Ermal looked at him and was suddenly struck, as if for the first time, by the realisation that Fabrizio was making carbonara at 11.30pm just because he’d said that it would make him happy. He’d used his best tablecloth and even decorated the place to set the atmosphere. And it was such a typical thing for him to do that Ermal hadn’t truly registered how special it was. He wouldn’t have done something like this. If he’d been in Fabrizio’s shoes and his partner kicked up a fuss about a tiny detail from two years ago, he’d have thought they were ridiculous.

“Hey Bizio, you’re amazing” he said.

Fabrizio beamed and kept stirring. “Thank you. I think you’re pretty special too.”

“Do you think it’s stupid to care about this?”

“No,” Fabrizio said after a moment. “I think it’s sweet that it means so much to you. Making a midnight snack is nothing out of the ordinary, and you know I love cooking and I love being with you, so we’re both having a good time.”

“You’re amazing,” Ermal said again. He carefully slipped his arms around Fabrizio’s waist and placed his head on his shoulder, making sure not to disturb his cooking. “You know, I think this is an even better first date than Lisbon.”

“High praise indeed,” Fabrizio inclined his head to touch Ermal’s. “I’m glad.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, kudos, comment and spread joy. Thank you.


End file.
